The Phoenix' Goodbye
by Corporal-Nihon
Summary: In which Gellert says goodbye to Albus. Warning: none Pairing: Albus/Gellert Spoilers: Volume 6 and 7.


**Disclaimer: **of course, everything belongs to JKR

**Summary: **first person Grindelwald, Volume 6 and 7 spoilers. In which Gellert Grindelwald says goodbye to Albus.

**Warning:** no warning needed, this is a completely non-sexual story (much to my affliction) and I don't do violence.

**Headcanon warning:** the headcanon of mine that Gellert is part-Veela. It is, however, my point of view, you don't have to agree and it doesn't affect the storyline. Just a random fact. I thought Gellert _could_ be part Veela and it would explain his charisma and the immediate feeling of fancy he inspired Albus.

Gellert Grindelwald, as known as prisoner #997 from Nurmengard, is currently lying on the hard ground, where a thick layer of dirt has been setting over the years. I, Gellert Grindelwald. I've become used to sleeping like this, or at least pretending to sleep since I can't really, the cold and the loneliness not allowing me any peaceful night. Anyway, I didn't really know whether it was night or daytime, since I have myself enchanted a special mist to hover around the huge tower that is the prison to, at the time, keep my prisoners' moral down, though I only now fully understand the effect it had on them. Now I can't remove the charm because I have no wand anymore and my wandless spells aren't so powerful as to remove the charms I've cast with such a mighty wand that I had at the time.

Thus I am lying, in the middle of a very light sleep, when a dream occurs to me. It all starts with a blinding white glow. As my surroundings become more focused, I immediately recognise Godric's Hollow, the little village where my life had so much changed. The grass feels real, but that's maybe because we used to lie down on it often, with Albus. Albus is there too. Young again, the same as in my memories: his auburn hair tied messily, even if the air was lukewarm, since Albus has always been sensible to heat, whereas I, used to warmer continental summers, didn't seem to mind the heat. I actually found Godric's Hollow quite chilly.

Albus has a sorry smile on his face. The kind that makes me angry. Then Albus extends his hand and plays with a curl of hair just above my left ear. Then again, it feels much too real for a dream. A light breeze sweeps past us, and when Albus speaks, the reality of his voice strikes me hard.

"I can't forgive you, Gellert."

And he's right, because I can't forgive myself either. With all those years spent alone in my cell, with not any guard left to care, I've learnt to first deny, then hate the things that I did. Perhaps it's the loneliness, or simply my humanity striking me again.

I can't meet his eyes, and I look at my hands. The skin there is fair, clean, and not wrinkled any more. I open my mouth, but no English word occurs to me, and my throat is dry, so I remain quiet.

"Or at least, that is why I want to think. I try hard, Gellert, but I can't. I feel horrible, you know?"

English words come again, memories of the time I've spent with him, of the time when he would chuckle at my pronunciation and I would feel vexed, because then, any weakness, should it be something as irrelevant as a grammar error in a foreign language, was not tolerable.

"Do you still love me?" I ask.

"I do, Gellert. I feel atrocious. I've thought about it over the years, and I've come to the conclusion that me loving you is quite criminal, you know?"

I stay silent. Albus shouldn't feel guilty, and I want to tell him very much, but I can't bring myself to say it.

"Gellert. I've always thought of you like a dark creature. Maybe it's because you are part Veela, after all. You've charmed me so easily and then... And then you let me fall."

"Albus, I don't feel like a Veela anymore. I don't know what my face looks like, it's been decades since I've last seen a mirror."

"You look like you did a hundred years ago, Gellert."

"So do you. But that's because it's a dream, correct?"

"Actually," Albus ponders with a sparkle in his fair, blue eyes "It's not so much of a dream than what you think... Gellert... Also, I think we see each other like this because, maybe, we weren't due to meet again after you left."

I remain silent. Incarceration has made me much less talkative.

"I've come here to tell you that I'm dead."

It leaves me gaping at him. Albus is dead? To me, Albus has always been a concept that travels through time, unchanging, always there, only object of my love that has not grown fainter over the years. I've never ceased to love him. Only, during my glory days, I found him stupid for not enjoying the edge of fame where I stood at the time. But I've missed him.

"You can't be, Albus. You need to die after I do. I'm supposed to be the reckless one, and you're the wise one that will live for a long time, you always were."

"Well, Gellert, don't you think I've lived for many years already?"

"That's true. After all, I don't think any of us has ever cared much about dying, haven't we? So... Why, then?"

"It's such a long story. What would interest you is that I've laid my hands on the three Hallows. Not at the same time, though."

I remained silent. I'm not interested in the Hallows any more: they're no use to me in that stupid cell, after all. Albus looks at me patiently, as if waiting for me to say something. He leans over and he kisses me, hesitantly, and I bet he doesn't know whether to feel disgusted or satisfied. The kiss is plain, but it means way more that any of those we shared. With all those years spent apart, I've regretted not treasuring our kisses more. And there it is. The final kiss. A real goodbye kiss, one we couldn't have at the time when I left too quickly.

He parted and looked at me straight in the eyes, as if to carve my face in his mind forever. I take the wand at his waist and, with a messy _Diffindo_ charm, I cut a small strand of hair his hair. Sweet auburn falls in my open hand. I put his wand back in his belt.

"Goodbye, Gellert."

He leaves.

I wake up. I raise my head from the floor and it aches hard. My back is sore. There's something soft in my clenched hand, which is now wrinkled again. I open it slowly. On my palm lie soft, auburn strands of hair.

I hope you liked it, even though I took much liberty while writing this, but there it is. Reviews are most welcome!


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